


Yuletide Trauma

by orphan_account



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Aggressive Emma, Crack, Established Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan, Established Relationship, Established SwanQueen, F/F, Femslash, Finger Fucking, Horny Emma, Horny Regina, Humor, I'm Bad At Tagging, Lesbian Sex, NSFW, Oral Sex, PWP without Porn, Rough Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Humor, Shameless Smut, Smut, Swan Queen - Freeform, SwanQueen Fanfiction Facebook Group (Once Upon a Time), Swen - Freeform, Traumatized David Nolan, Vaginal Fingering, traumatized Snow White
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 19:34:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21923962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Snow and David sneak into Regina and Emma’s house when no one is home. Unfortunately, the love birds come home early. Snow and Charming end up trapped in their bedroom and traumatized for life. Bonus points if you guys can tell me what TV show and episode inspired this one-shot.
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills & Emma Swan
Comments: 29
Kudos: 161





	Yuletide Trauma

**Author's Note:**

> Let me begin by saying that I am not pleased with how any these upcoming stories came out—but here we are. Anywho, happy holidays people. If you don’t celebrate the holidays—no biggie—just sit back and (hopefully) enjoy this ridiculous story. Because of the nature of the story, I could see no way of constructing it without making it dialogue heavy; hopefully it didn’t screw up the story. As usual, I only own my mistakes. A huge shout out to the wonderful people who leave kudos and reviews of my work. Thank you! You guys are awesome. Thanks everyone for even bothering to read this stuff. Merry Christmas, isuckatnicknames; hope you like it, Kamila. (Still posting the others--all of which I hate--at one time.)

Snow White pushed a reluctant David across the threshold and into the entrance of the mansion. Her impatient sigh burrowed its way into the pit of her husband’s stomach as he watched her lock the front door.

“Why are we doing this,” the deputy asked weakly.

“ _Because_ , David! Every year Regina’s decorations win and I’m tired of it.”

“And the fact that she and Emma are now a couple has _nothing_ to do with your urge to snoop while they’re not home,” he asked dryly.

“I am _not_ snooping! They gave us a _key_ , David,” she sniffed haughtily while dangling the keys in his face.

“For emergencies,” he reminded her gently.

“I just want to check out the competition . . .” Snow White’s voice faded as she moved deeper into the house and stared dumbly at the luminous decorations. A Christmas tree stood tall and proud in the mayor’s family room. As expected, even the presents were arrayed meticulously beneath a tree that _had_ to have been decorated with magic.

“See! Do you see, David!”

“See what,” David sighed tiredly.

Snow slapped her husband’s arm in agitation before waving wildly at the elaborate decorations and that disgustingly flawless tree. “ _No one_ has decorations like this—unless they hired a professional _orrr_ they used magic!” The brunette stomped her foot with a childlike finality that brought a warm smile to her patient husband’s face.

“Snow, did it ever occur to you that Regina _is_ a professional? You know how anal she is about these things.”

“Exactly! She would do anything to win and be the best,” Snow huffed as she headed toward the kitchen.

Majestic Snowflake Amaryllises and Poinsettia’s were littered about the luminous and sparkling kitchen. Platters of cookies were strategically displayed on the kitchen island in their festive holiday trays. Tastefully placed Winter Solstice decorative trim lined the top of the stark white cabinets. The contrast of the thin gold and forest green material against the white cabinets was gorgeous . . . damn it.

“Do you see what I mean, David? No one has the time to make their house look like this! It looks like a magazine for goodness sake!”

“Snow, sweetie—”

“Don’t, okay? Just _don’t._ ”

“Snow, honey,” he tried again. “Regina is a perfectionist, you know that.”

“And since when did you become such an Evil Queen cheerleader,” Snow asked with a hint of suspicion. “Hmm? Come to think of it, you and the ‘queen’ have been mighty chummy lately . . .” Snow stepped into her husband’s personal space and poked her finger into his chest. “Are you . . . are you _decorating_ with her, David?”

Prince Charming rubbed his temples and sighed heavily. He loved his wife, he truly did—but sometimes . . .

Disgusted by his silence, Snow White pulled her husband away from the immaculate kitchen, only to moan a dejected and bereaved sigh with each room they visited on the first floor. It simply wasn’t fair. Each space was more beautiful and splendid than the last. Even Regina’s private office housed a tastefully yet superbly decorated tree with thin golden lights tracing the top borders of the white walls.

“Now you look at this, David and tell me this house doesn’t reek of dark magic,” the pixie-haired woman practically shrieked. “This Martha Stewart witch is _cheating,_ ” she raged as she pulled her reluctant husband toward the stairs. David, seeing his wife’s destination and sensing her determination, halted in his tracks and stepped away from his confused bride. “Come on, David!”

“Why are we going upstairs? The judges are only going to look at the first floor.”

“Don’t you think that’s rather odd,” she asked with narrowed eyes.

“Well, no. Not everyone in Storybrooke has a two-story home. It wouldn’t be fair, honey,” he reasoned. And yet, he knew he’d managed to discover exactly the wrong thing to say.

On a good day, coming to the defense of Regina Mills was a bad move. But now—during this season of supposed love and giving and joy—it was downright suicidal. Snow White didn’t deal well with change. David had quickly learned that his blushing bride hated being forced to accept new realities and foreign situations. She hated that Emma and Regina were no longer simply “The Savior” and “The Evil Queen.” No, now they were Emma and Regina, Storybrooke’s goddamn couple extraordinaire. People _liked_ Regina now. Emma was fucking smitten and well, she and David were now good friends. For Snow White, it was a nightmare that refused to end. She now lived in a big house on “What the fuck,” avenue and she seemed to be the only resident.

“Fair? What’s not fair is how everyone is sniffing after her like she’s some saint!”

“Everyone, or just Emma,” David asked with a knowing smirk.

“I—. Just come on,” the petite woman spat as she pushed her husband in front of her to lead the way to the second floor.

“Honey, there aren’t any decorations up here.”

“There could be evidence, David,” she retorted weakly.

“Evidence,” he asked dryly.

“Fine! I’m just curious. I want to see what’s so special in this damn house that I barely see my baby anymore.”

“I know what’s in this house,” he mumbled under his breath, wise enough to let the words die before they reached his wife’s ears. The prince turned deputy knew exactly why they rarely saw their daughter. Emma had the choice of spending time with her loving fairy tale parents; or, basking in the presence of a woman whose picture was probably in the dictionary right next to a definition of the word “sex.”

They came to the second floor and peered down the hall at the various doorways. Impatient to begin her journey and discover the mysteries of the mansion, Snow pushed past her husband and opened the first door she came to. The large room, obviously the master bedroom, was decorated in soft cream pastels and a plush off-white carpet to match the expensive-looking drapes.

“We don’t have any business in here, Snow . . . you’ve scoped out the competition. Now let’s get out of here.”

David sighed when his wife waved him off without so much as a glance back in his direction. “Calm down, David. Being in Storybrooke has made you soft,” she scoffed as she walked deeper in the room. “Ugh, leave it to Regina to have a king-sized bed for just one person.” Snow rolled her eyes in a fit of disgust at the mayor’s obvious vanity and self indulgence. “Seriously, David. How much space does one woman need?”

David glanced around the room and _silently_ admired the soft and neutral décor. It was a welcomed and warm surprise given how feisty the town’s mayor appeared when presenting herself to the public. “Look, honey. I really think we need to get out of here. I don’t want to get caught in h—”

The sound of faint laughter froze the bickering couple in place. They stood staring at one another with wide eyes and mirrored expressions of horror and disbelief.

“Well I hope you’re happy,” David whispered in a panicked hiss.

Snow White, hearing the movement and chatter downstairs, stared at her husband with tears in her eyes. “David,” she all but squeaked, “what are we going to do?”

“We have to get out of here before they come up the stairs.”

“We can’t! They’ll see us.”

“Great,” David snapped. “You just _had_ to come up here! God!”

With the desperation of a prisoner attempting to avoid her final fate, Snow White darted across the room and pulled on the doors that led to Regina’s second floor balcony. Time stood still and the world froze on its axis as the petrified woman registered the fact that the door refused to give way to her physical demand. She yanked until the rattle of the doors began to fill the space of the room and David’s warning glare finally caused her to give up.

“It’s locked!”

“Well no, shit!”

“ _David_ ,” Snow gasped as her brows rose in both surprise and betrayal.

The prince sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry—I’m sorry,” he huffed with raised hands and walked over to his wife.

_“Emma! Stop that!”_

The mayor’s throaty laugh and light hearted reprove rang from the bottom of the stairs. Her voice, normally calm and calculating was filled with mirth and mischief.

_“Come on, Gina just tell me what color they are.”_

A resounding smack soon rang out, followed by a gasp and . . . was . . . was that a moan?

_“Emma!”_

_“I can’t help it. You know I love your ass.”_

Snow and David, both wrestling with varying levels of shock and revulsion, forced themselves out of their immobile self-induced prison in order to come up with a plan.

“We should hide in the bathroom,” Snow whispered.

Again, David leveled his wife with a stare that he hoped conveyed just how dense he thought his lovely wife could be. Yet, when he peered into her wide and hopeful eyes, he knew one thing beyond a shadow of a doubt: his wife didn’t have a fucking clue. “That’s the first place they’ll look, Snow.”

“Okay, okay. The closet!”

Such a pretty face, but intellect . . . “That’s the second place they’ll look,” he answered while looking around the room. He stared at his wife and grimaced as an idea began to take form in his mind. He knew she would hate it, but their choices were either his newly concocted scheme or the business end of a very hot and ready fireball from their soon to be daughter-in-law. David took a deep breath to prepare himself as he grabbed his wife’s arm and led her away from the double doors.

_“Come on, babe. Give me a hint.”_

_“Emma Swan, I’m not telling you what color my panties are . . . you will just have to come find out.”_

Again the laughter broke free followed by those suspiciously heated breathing noises that neither parent wanted to dwell on.

“Under the bed,” David whispered urgently—noticing that the voices were getting closer. Without a second thought, he bent his body and prepared himself to dive into his new hiding spot, only to feel the fresh searing pain of slender hands gripping a hand full of his thick mane and yanking his head. The prince came face to face with frantic and shifting eyes that were both angry and bewildered.

“I am _not_ hiding under anyone’s bed!”

David’s eyes silently pleaded with his wife to understand; to please not make things anymore difficult; and for the love of heaven _please_ get under the blasted bed.

A rumbling growl floated through the cracks of the closed bedroom. Good lord, they were right on the other side. A hard thud against the door shook the picture on the bedroom wall as a whine soon joined the symphony of noises.

_“Oh, Emma!”_

_“I can’t wait to get you out of this.”_

Snow White didn’t have time to register the aggressive tenor of her daughter’s voice as she felt herself being snatched and pulled down to her knees.

“Under the bed,” David spat again.

With a groan of defeat, Snow White sank to the carpet and followed her husband into their new hiding place. Snow and David positioned themselves into the shadows, making sure that neither head nor tail of their presence could be detected. The couple clung to one another, each afraid to move or breath too deeply for fear of being detected. The true loves stared wide-eyed at the base of the door and waited.

Almost instantly, the door to the bedroom swung open with a resounding thud . . .

* * *

“Emma, wait,” the mayor huffed breathlessly as she stepped away from the savior.

A groan of frustration emanated from the blonde savior as they entered the room. “Ugh. What _now_?”

“Why was this door unlocked?”

“What,” Emma asked slowly, her weak response laced with understanding and guilt.

“Emma Swan, did you forget to lock our bedroom door?”

“Maybe,” the sheriff answered with a shy shrug and pleading eyes.

“Emma, you know how sneaky that son of yours is this time of the year. I will not have him searching our room for his presents,” the brunette chastised lightly while walking back into her lover’s arms.

Emma leaned in and captured the mayor’s lips. She pulled the mayor in close and held their bodies tightly together. Regina’s soft body melted into her toned and taut form as the two women stood in the middle of the room and bathed in the quiet presence of an uninterrupted afternoon.

“He can’t be that bad, Gina.”

“Emma, last year that little weasel snuck into my room while I was downstairs baking. I didn’t even know he was home,” the mayor all but pouted.

“Ohhh okay. I get it. When he’s a sneak and breaking and entering, he’s my weasel of a son.”

“Exactly right,” Regina grinned in mocked superiority. “At all other times, he’s my little prince.”

“That’s not fair.”

“No, my love. If Henry finds his surprise present before Christmas morning—your punishment—that will be unfair,” the mayor husked in a sultry tone. She raked her nails across the back of the blonde’s neck and reveled in the hiss of arousal that escaped those thin and enticing lips. “If he finds _his_ toys before Christmas,” the mayor crooned as her tongue slid slowly over her full bottom lip, “then I will have to return all the toys I bought for _you_.”

Emma leaned back in order to stare fully into those honey eyes. She gazed into their depths until she couldn’t remember a time in her life where she’d known anything other than this sexy creature known as Regina Mills. “Toys,” she moaned helplessly.

“Yes, dear,” the mayor cooed as she leaned in and kissed her lover’s neck. She let her tongue press against the savior’s pulse point before grazing the areas lightly with her teeth. “As in plural.”

Regina lifted her head and captured Emma’s lips and tugged on her bottom lip until the blonde whined with a need that settled in the pit of both of their stomachs. “God, Regina.”

“So, what have we learned?”

“Lock the door,” Emma replied eagerly.

“That’s a good girl,” Regina smiled.

Emma smiled brightly at the praise and melted into her lover’s touch. They bodies molded perfectly together as Emma made it her mission to eliminate any excess space between their aching bodies. “Good,” she chirped before lowering her voice back to its assertive tone. “Can I fuck you now?”

Regina’s stomach tightened at the candid and vulgar request. She bit into her bottom lip and stifled a moan as her savior began to pull her blouse free from the confines of her tight skirt. The fire in her loans spread and lapped at her chest until her heart threatened to break free from its cage. She stood trembling with need and anticipation as Emma’s urgent movements divested her of her red dress shirt and charcoal skirt. She smiled at the surprised gasp that came from Emma once the mayor’s nearly exposed form was offered up to the savior’s greedy eyes.

“Yellow,” the blonde asked in amazement.

“Yes, it would appear so,” Regina replied with barely concealed amusement.

“But you hate yellow,” Emma continued as she took the sight of the sheer yellow brassiere and matching lace thong.

“Then you shouldn’t make me keep it on too long,” Regina retorted in a voice that lay thick with desire and promise. “Unwrap me, Emma.”

* * *

Snow White, the fairest of them all—the sweetest and most devoted soul that the Enchanted Forest had ever sired—wanted to die. She wanted to cut off her ears and send them to the Elysian Fields so that they might live in peace and remember happier times . . . better times.

_“Oh my god, Emma,” came a scream._

_“Fuck, you’re so tight_ ,” _came a forceful grunt in response._

The hidden former monarch once again placed her hands over her ears and prayed for silence. She fought against the bile that threatened to rise and spill onto the expense carpet. In her panic and horror, she turned to her knight in shining armor and hoped beyond all hope that he would save her from this fate worse than death. However, one look into his dazed and clammy face told the former queen that she was totally and utterly alone. Even in the shadows, she could see the color draining from David’s face as he seemed to retreat into himself and pray for death to be swift, sweet, and kind.

“David,” she mouthed as he poked the side of his head to get his attention. “Do something.”

David’s sickly countenance transformed into incredulity as he stared at his clueless wife. “What,” he mouthed back.

“She’s _defiling_ our daughter,” Snow enunciated in a barely-there whisper that was eaten away by the soundtrack of a moaning mayor and a headboard slapping against the walls.

“Are you insane,” he asked grumpily while tapping his wife on her sweaty forehead.

_“Emma-Emma! Oh, my god.”_

_“You know I like that. Say my name again,” she ordered hotly._

A resounding series of what could only be described as a palm meeting flesh reverberated through the expansive room as the mayor’s cries intensified above the nauseated couple.

_“Emma, baby! Oh, Emma! Oh my God, Emma!”_

_“Damn that’s sexy. Can you take four fingers, babe?”_

_“Emma,” Regina high-pitched whine was frantic and broken._

_“You can do it, baby.”_

_“Emma!”_

_“Fuck that’s tight. Shit I think you could crush my hand,” she grunted._

_“Emma! Oh fuck, E-Emmmmaaa!”_

A piercing and elongated cry swept the atmosphere until neither Charming nor his nearly comatose bride could remember what the blessing of silence sounded like. Snow White attempted to retreat into her happy place, attempted to find refuge in the sweet coves of her pleasant thoughts and pure mind—but it was no use. Her thoughts now conjured disturbing images to match the very real audio that assaulted her senses. Somehow between entering Regina’s house and hiding under the bed, Snow had died and gone to hell.

_“I thought about fucking you all day, Gina.”_

Emma’s voice melted into Regina’s moans and Snow White grieved the loss of her daughter’s innocence. Obviously that dark-haired slut of a witch had seduced her baby girl and ensnared her with her disgusting wiles and dark magic. Her poor baby girl was a sex slave.

_“Emma, oh my god you’re so deep,” she cried out._

David gagged and shut his eyes tightly against the wave of queasiness that rolled in his stomach. For the love of humanity, his goddamned daughter was having _sex_ right above his head and the bowels of the Earth would not heed his call and swallow him whole.

_“You like that, don’t you?”_

Another slap rang out into the room.

_“Yes! Yes! Oh my god, Emma! Fuck me! F-fuck me!”_

_“Damn, baby. Look at you. I want you to come for me, Gina.”_

The tempo of the headboard against the wall seemed to increase tenfold upon the savior’s declaration. Both parents buried their faces in their arms and rode the tidal wave of repulsion as the two lovers rode the peak of an entirely different crest.

_“That’s my spot, Emma! Oh my god! Fuck! That’s my—”_

The Charmings listened helplessly and shuddered under the thick blanket of abject horror as the mayor’s crescendo of pleas and cries blossomed into that all-knowing torrent of orgasmic gibberish. Because life was cruel and the chains of death were being held at bay, Snow White and Prince Charming were forced to listen to their daughter give the mayor Storybrooke what was apparently and ear-splitting and toe curling release . . .

* * *

Regina collapsed face-first into the pillow, her arms and boneless knees no longer able to support her after the mountain-climbing climax her girlfriend had managed to pull from her body. Emma’s naked and sweaty form lay next to her as she heaved and sputtered into her pillow, trying to calm the tremors and her erratic breathing.

Emma leaned over and kissed the mayor’s damp skin before rising from the bed and retrieving robes for their naked bodies. She smiled down at her tremulous lover before lightly nudging the brunette beauty.

“Come on, Gina. I’m starving babe.”

A smothered and shaky laugh escaped the mayor as she forced herself to turn over on her back. Smooth cognac eyes met smug green as the mayor offered up a lazy and content smile. “You can make a sandwich without me, Emma,” the brunette teased lightly.

Emma pouted as she donned her robe and held out the other to her girlfriend. “Come on, babe. Eat with me. Besides, my sandwiches always taste better when you make them.”

Regina sighed in defeat as she peered into those wide innocent eyes and forced her body to come back to life. “Fine,” she relented as she covered her body with the robe and followed her lover toward the door. Emma watched in confusion as the mayor grabbed the key to their bedroom door from the nightstand.

“Really, Regina? We’re the only ones here.”

Regina eyed Emma as if she truly was the spawn of two morons. “Did you not catch the part about how your sneaky thieving son came into this room last year?”

“Alright, alright,” Emma huffed and raised her hands in surrender. “By all means, your majesty, lock down the fort,” the blonde snickered.

“Idiot,” Regina chuckled as they headed out of the room and locked the door.

“Oh yeah,” Emma challenged with a devious glint in her eyes. “I’ll remember that when we get back in the room.” . . .

* * *

Snow and David crawled from under the bed and did their absolute best to ignore the soiled sheets and the smell of sex in the air as they stretched their limbs. The short haired brunette searched the room, seemingly hoping that a new way of escape that previously lay hidden would now make itself known.

“I can’t believe they locked the door,” she all but sobbed.

David, in an attempt to soothe is frazzled wife, placed a comforting hand on her stiff shoulders. “Shhh,” he admonished gently.

“We’ve _got_ to get out of here,” she shouted.

Immediately that hand of comfort was clamped tightly over her mouth, effectively muffling the tirade of shrill expletives and pleas for freedom.

“Snow, honey, calm down.”

Yet again, Mr. Charming was lucky enough to discover the exact phrase that would stoke his wife’s ire. In a fit of agitation and indignant pique, his wife snatched his hand away from her face and met his gaze as though he were a deranged stranger.

“Calm down? _Calm down, David?!_ Our daughter—our baby girl—is-is-is being ravished by that deviant and you want me to calm down?”

“I mean, in all honesty, Snow,” David began with a shrug, “. . . it kind of sounds like Emma is ‘the top’ as the kids say. So at least there’s that, right,” he asked sheepishly.

Realizing that he was three for three regarding his success rate for pissing off his wife, David opted to stay quiet and allow his wife a few moments to pace and panic and think. After waiting a reasonable amount of time, David finally voiced his concern.

“So . . . what exactly do you propose we do?”

“I tell you what we’re going to do: we’re going to call Henry!”

David eyebrows rose to his hairline but he stood next to his wife and remained silent.

“We can call him—text him! I don’t care. We can send him a pigeon carrier and let the bird shit out the message for all I give a damn, David. If that doesn’t _work_ , I’ll take that _chair_ and shatter the goddamn balcony glass doors! But I _cannot_ hear _another_ “Oh my god, Emma; Oh my god Emma! _Oh my god, Emma!!_ ” The brunette’s arms flailed wildly as her glazed over eyes seemed incapable of focusing on anything in particular.

“Okay. We’ll text him. _I’ll_ text him. And please, let’s make sure both of our phones are on silent,” he groaned as he envisioned one of their phones ringing at the absolute worse time.

Snow leaned against her husband in an attempt to absorb a bit of his calming nature and easy strength. He wrapped his free arm around his wife as he fired off a message to his grandson and quickly locked the screen.

“Wait,” Snow asked slowly, her voice dripping with suspicion. “What did you say in your text?”

“The truth,” he shrugged easily. “I said that we were here scoping out the competition but his moms came home early and now we’re hiding in the house and need to get out.” David pecked his wife on the cheek and smiled reassuringly, but the brunette was not fooled.

“Give me your phone, David,” she deadpanned.

“Why,” he asked defensively.

“Give me the phone!”

“Fine!”

Snow White unlocked the phone and read the message aloud:

“Hey Hen. Ur gma dragged me to ur moms’ house to spy on them and now they’re home early and we’re stuck under their bed. We need to get out of here! Operation whatever you wanna call it, buddy!”

Snow threw the phone at David’s chest. “What? It’s the truth, Snow.”

“You know what, David—”

_“Emma!”_

“Son of a bitch,” the fairest of them all hissed.

_“You ready for another round, Gina?”_

_“Bring it on, savior,” the other woman moaned._

Once again, David grabbed his wife in order to usher her under the bed.

“I am _not_ getting back under that bed,” she whispered hotly.

David groaned and pulled his wife again. “Under the bed,” he spat with authority.

Snow, taken aback by her husband’s change in demeanor crawled back into her personal hell and awaited the entrance of the live action actors to the personal pornographic display to which she had been granted front row access. Porn indeed, she squeaked internally.

Again, as if on cue, the bedroom door was unlocked and swung open as to two love birds stumbled back into the room.

_“Now, madam mayor. I believe I promised you that we would revisit that ‘idiot’ comment of yours.”_

_A gasp and hiss soon followed the heated statement. . . ._

* * *

“Emma! Emma!” The blonde’s name became a desperate mantra on the brunette’s full and trembling lips.

Emma Swan invaded every inch of her being and stroked her until she nearly wept from the sublime torture that was the sheriff’s aggressive and expert touch. She spread her legs wider and lost herself in the feel of her savior sinking deeper between her thighs. Her clenching walls welcomed the blonde further into her sensitive canal until the slightest touch sent her body into rolling fits of quakes and spasms. Regina wrapped her arms around Emma’s neck and held on as if Emma’s body were a life raft. She clung to the woman responsible for her undoing as though she would slip away into the tides of oblivion if she were to let go. Emma Swan slammed her interwoven fingers into her heat until her vision blurred and her anguished cries for release became little more than shrill incoherent declarations. Through it all, when words failed and the English language soon became lost to the illustrious mayor, Regina came to the realization that only one word remained a constant in her open mouth: “Emma!”

“Tell me you’re mine, baby,” the blonde demanded, witnessing her soulmate unravel.

“I-Imph yyssss,” came the garbled attempt at compliance.

Emma chuckled through her savage grunt as she continued her plunder. She sank into her lover’s soft curves and sucked the curve of her neck until Regina’s sensual whimpers filled her senses and caused her blood to boil.

Their naked bodies smacked loudly together and competed against the noise of the headboard and Regina’s throaty and hearty vocalizations. It was a symphony of raw passion and carnality. Many a day and night the two women spent hours memorizing every inch of each other’s bodies and reveling in the art of languid and unhurried love making. Today was decidedly _not_ one of those days. Today, they fucked. Today, Emma Swan tore into her Christmas present and left the thin yellow lace wrapping shredded on the bedroom floor. Today, Emma Swan made Regina get on her knees and place her hands on the wall above the headboard while kneeled behind her and thrust three fingers in her pulsing and aching core.

They thrashed and bucked wildly against each other, making excellent use of every inch of that California King bed. They would be sore tomorrow, hell they would be sore tonight. But in the moment, with Emma Swan’s knowing fingers assaulting that tender area in her lover’s walls that transformed her into a puddle of nerves, both women knew that the pleasure would be well worth the stiff gait and protesting limbs that would surely come later.

Regina clawed at the sheets as she cried out to her savior that she was about to come. Her strained and tense body strove toward the expected end as the skilled digits in her center and the teeth clamped to her sweaty flesh demanded that she follow through.

“Emma-Emma-Emma! I-I’m _coming!! Oh shit!”_

The climax blossomed throughout her body and the savior basked in the awe-inspiring sight of Regina Mills coming completely undone.

The duet of heavy breathing soon gave way to the sound of the mayor’s cell phone blaring from the nightstand.

Emma glared at the offensive piece of technology before snuggling in and lying next to her sated mayor.

“Ignore it, sweetheart,” Regina soothed even though her vocals were strained and raspy. “The only person who calls me is Henry and he’s supposed to head to Nicholas’s house once he leaves Grace.”

Emma smiled at the predatory leer that spread across her lover’s face. Damn it all if Regina was not the sexiest thing in the world when she was on the hunt. The savior’s walls clenched in anticipation for the thorough fucking she knew her mate was about to deliver. Regina settled her weight on top of the athletic sheriff and nestled herself between those toned and magnificent thighs. The heat from Emma’s core smeared and coated her stomach and she pressed her body deeper into that hot moisture before claiming the sheriff’s lips.

“Do you have any idea what I want to do to y—”

Again, the pair found themselves interrupted by the sound of a cell phone—no make that two cell phones—alerting the owners of incoming messages.

Both women groaned in frustration, each equally tempted to say to hell with whoever was currently preventing the mayor from burying her eager fingers into the woman spread out before her. Yet, even in their lusty haze, the women—albeit reluctantly—recognized that in order for their phones to chime at the exact same moment, there could only be one likely correspondent on the other end of the phone: Henry.

“I swear Regina, sometimes that kid is a real cock blocker,” Emma grumbled sourly.

“ _Emma,”_ Regina scolded.

“Fine—cunt blocker—whatever,” she sighed as she got out of bed.

“Emma Swan, you will stop name-calling our son this instant.”

“Fine, how about you see what the _little prince_ wants,” she pouted before heading to the connected master bathroom.

Regina laughed and shook her head at her adorable but sexually frustrated partner before opening both their phones. She slumped over with a tired groan once she confirmed that both phones had indeed received messages from Henry.

“I swear I hate your parents,” Regina called out to her.

“What’d they do now,” Emma asked once she returned.

“Well according to Henry, he’s locked out of their loft because they’re not home and he hasn’t heard from them.”

“Sooo,” Emma began slowly. “ _They’re_ cock blocking me?”

“ _Emma!”_

“Cunt blocking.”

“Emma Swan—”

“I thought he was going to Nicholas’s house!”

“Perhaps those plans fell through, Emma,” the brunette smirked.

“Fucking cunt blocks, all of them.”

“Damnit, Swan—”

“I’m fucking horny, Regina!”

Regina grabbed her girlfriend and pulled her down for a searing kiss, effectively silencing the aggravated blonde. “Sit on the edge of the bed, Emma,” Regina commanded in a husky tone when they finally came up for air. Regina rose from the bed and sank to her knees. She settled her heated gaze on her prey and pulled the blonde by the ankles until her behind was positioned on the edge of the bed and her glistening and gaping sex were aimed right at the brunette’s impatient mouth.

Emma stared down at the huntress and shivered at the sheer aura of promise that radiated from the olive flesh. Ugh, the things Regina could do with her mouth. “What about Henry,” Emma asked weakly. Where the _fuck_ were her parents?!!

“Oh, this won’t take long,” Regina retorted before placing a firm and sensuous kiss against her swollen lips. “First, you’re going to come for me, Emma.” Another kiss, firmer than the last assaulted the blonde’s senses. A questing tongue parted the silky folds and pressed firmly against her clitoris. Emma’s hips bucked to increase the pressure and she gasped as the flattened organ slid roughly over the tight and sensitive bud. “Then, we’ll dress—with magic, of course; and I’ll transport us to the loft. We can take your cruiser to return home,” the brunette decreed with an air of finality and dove back between the blonde’s legs.

“Oh, Regina!”

Emma threw her head back and cried out her pleasure into the now evening air as the brunette’s wicked mouth took control of her body. Her spirit fought to remain tethered to its Earthly vessel, but lost out in the end. Regina sucked her very essence from between her legs. The mayor pushed her tongue into the sheriff’s core until her nose pressed firmly against that aching tiny bud. The mayor pressed harder, fully enjoying the feel of the wet and tender mass of tissue against her nose and filling her senses while her tongue filled her savior. She ate the princess as if her life depended on it and Emma in turn screamed out her pleasure as if she were dying.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Goddamnit, Regina!”

That relentless mouth carried the blonde the tip of the highest cloud; it took her to the edge of the barrier between this world and the next and showed her just how much of a slave she was to the witch between her legs.

“ _Regina!_ B-babe! Yes!! Oh that fucking mouth!”

Regina chuckled but would not be deterred from her goal. She owed her savior a soul rendering experience and damnit she was determined to deliver in the limited amount of time she’d been afforded. She slurped and drank freely from the fountain of Emma Swan openly and without shame. She soaked in the excited pleas and declarations of her twitching and writhing lover as she wrapped her arms around trembling thighs and held her wild stallion in place. Emma fell back against the mattress and tore at the fine linen. Regina yanked her body closer until her behind was completely snatched from the cushion of the plush mattress. The heels of her feet dug into Regina’s back as the mayor sucked her. Regina fed from the blonde with the intensity of a woman who seemed to believe she was born to do nothing more than weld her greedy mouth to her partner’s sopping core.

Emma wept from the ecstasy that overtook her and slammed into her womb. The climax unwound itself in her cervix and gripped her stomach until the forceful tremors and contractions traveled the length of her spine. Her body seized and refused to relax as the torrent of waves ebbed—only to resurface and take her away.

“Regina,” the savior all but squealed through gritted teeth.

And still, the mayor—never one to be considered a quitter and not see a goal to completion—licked and sucked Emma until the next barrage spasms nearly caused her the little common sense she felt she had left. That snaking tongue and persistent mouth stayed with her until the brunette was certain that Emma had no more left to give. Finally, once the savior’s body lay limp and tremor free, the mayor kissed the blonde’s inner thigh and rose to her feet.

“Now,” she husked arrogantly, after allowing the sheriff the moments she needed to calm down and collect herself. “Let’s go get our son.”

A dazed and content Emma Swan smiled up at the woman and nodded before standing next to the naked goddess. With the flick of an elegant wrist, both women were clean and freshly dressed. Regina used her magic to change the sheets before transporting the two of them to their precious little cunt blocker. . . .

* * *

Snow White and Prince Charming—for what they hoped would be the last time in their natural lives—crawled from under the California King. The pair walked stiffly, both sporting haunted and far-off looks that told the tale of a mind that was being tortured with sounds and imagery that would not soon be forgotten.

“ . . . I don’t ever want to hear about, think about, or be associated with anything having to do with . . . _sex_ . . . for the rest of my _life_ ,” Snow White declared in a slow but desperate voice.

Prince Charming, still trapped in the labyrinth of his own trauma, was hard-pressed to disagree. Hearing Emma pleasure the mayor had been disturbing, sure; but this . . . hearing those . . . _shrieks_. . . those banshee screams from fucking Hades coming from his baby girl . . . it was the stuff night terrors were made of. Damnit, demons probably used material like that to haunt the souls of the condemned that they oppressed and possessed. And yet, Charming and his wife—champions of good and beacons of morality—were forced to become ear witnesses to unspeakable evils.

“L-let’s just get the hell out of here before they come back,” David shuddered.

He ushered his stunned and traumatized bride out of the chamber of horrors and they made their way numbly down the stairs. Snow paused briefly at the sound of her cell phone chime alerting her of an incoming text message. Snow White unlocked her phone, assuming Henry was informing them of what they already knew: that he was with his moms and the coast was clear.

She could not have been more wrong.

Regina Mills: Next time, I’ll fuck her on the floor right beside the bed. No one likes a snoop, Snow. Consider it your Christmas present that I stopped when I did.

The color drained from the pixie-haired woman’s face as she read and re-read the message. She took note of the purple devil smiling emoji and the Santa Clause hat at the end of the message before she grabbed David by his collar and yanked him forward, nearly causing them both to tumble down the stairs. The frazzled couple bolted from the house and slammed it shut in their hasty retreat. Maybe—just maybe—if they were lucky, Dr. Hopper would consider gifting them a free hour’s session and perhaps a brand new dream catcher in honor of the holiday season.


End file.
